Reinforcements
by Sherlock Emrys
Summary: Spinoff AU... thing, inspired by "Shared Perspectives". All PG rated. Features both verses. Beaten, humiliated, Loki fled to the one place he knew he'd be safe - the home of his last remaining ally, Morgana. It's always useful to have someone see things your way. The heroes won't know what's hit them. Or, in which Loki takes down Camelot and Morgana really, really hates Tony Stark.


**A/N: So, the long awaited sequel to Shared Perspectives. This is ****_planned_**** as a multichapter plot-focussed fic which devolves into romance at intervals. In reality, it's one chapter and some messy planning sketches. Don't expect updates any time soon XD**

* * *

**Chapter 1: Plots are Laid**

Once upon a time, in a land far far away, there lived two villains.

Well. Two lands, actually. And how far away they are is relative.

And they probably wouldn't want to be called _villains_, per se. But then, no one ever does.

And they made a deal. Whenever she called him, he would give her his aid. And whenever he called her, she would… owe him a favour.

This story might not have a happy ending. It might not be about the triumph of good over evil. It may not be happy – ever – after for our heroes.

Because if there's one thing that stories can teach you, it's this.

The heroes can always overcome an evil villain, be he (or she) never so strong.

But when two of them work together…

The rules have changed.

And now, here, in the land(s) which are far, far away (unless you live in them), the game is on.

* * *

Long ago, before his world tore apart to expose the fabric of lies beneath the gossamer veil of happiness, Loki had been a scholar.

Or at least, he had heard stories.

There were few books in Asgard. A warrior culture has little use for the scribe. Mainly, the oral tradition was maintained by the old women who held wisdom.

Of course, the transmission of knowledge was always somewhat inhibited by the fact of effective immortality. When nobody dies, few can be born, or the population would simply explode, and thus there were few to pass the knowledge on to.

Loki listened. And he learned.

The universe – all that was, and is, and would be – was supported by an ash tree, a great, spreading thing named Yggdrasil. It had many branches, and supported upon them the Nine Realms.

Asgard. Midgard. Niflheim. Jotunheim. Muspell. Hel. Alfheim. Vanirheim. Swarzalfheim, or Dvargerheim.

Nine great realms, each home to a race of beings as different from them, the gods of Asgard and Vanirheim, as night from day.

The Jotun were violent, and greedy, and not to be trusted. (_Later, he smiled bitterly, and set about showing them all what that truly meant.)_ The elves were… strange, and insular. The dwarfs were fine metalworkers, to be sure, but rather pecuniary and peculiar. Niflheim and Muspell were home to some of the strangest creatures in creation, and by no means uniform. Hel, the world of the dead, was grey and drear. And Midgard… well, the humans were backwards, gullible, easily ruled.

He'd had fun with that, then.

But also, beyond Yggdrasil – beyond it! A concept unfathomable to all but the wisest, and he counted himself thus without hesitation – there were others. Other Hels, other Muspells, other Asgards even. He'd never dared visit them.

But there were other Midgards, too. An endless stream of them, bright and ephemeral as the petals of a flower, stretching out across the dark between the seconds unto eternity.

When Loki was older, he set out to travel, to explore the realms. And in one Midgard, only a few spaces removed from that attached to his own, he met her. Morgana Pendragon. Or Morgana LaFay, as she later came to be known.

Time in her world passed apace to that in his own, curiously, although her Midgard was centuries behind his.

And one day, they made a deal.

She promised him her aid. For one time, and one request, she would help him at any cost short of her life or that of a loved one, and she would do anything that he asked.

And in return, when she called to him, he would grant her aid to the limits of his power.

An unequal bargain. But unequal on his side, and that was the only way that she would have made it. He cared not, knowing that her petty power struggles could never ask more of him than he could or would give.

_The woods around Camelot_

The rough wooden shack was crude and tumbledown. The irony did not escape Morgana. Once, she had been a princess, with gold and jewels and fine clothes and all she could ever desire. Now she was consigned to this pit, which even a peasant would have turned up their nose at, because the one and only thing that she had truly wanted – had deserved – was beyond her reach.

She choked down the last crust of stale bread she had been able to scrounge from her latest trip, swallowing brackish water in the hope that it would make her stomach seem fuller.

She had exhausted her options. Her contacts were dead. Her supporters were decimated. Her sister, her only _true_ family, had been cruelly wrenched away from her by her so-called brother. She was weak, and tired, and she was not so proud as to know when she could no longer afford to work alone.

It was time to call in a favour.

The magic was not hard. _All you need is my name_, he'd said. _My name and a touch of magic_.

Still, for form's sake she lit a candle. And it was dark in here, nonetheless. She was nothing if not practical at times.

Morgana took a breath, and summoned her magic. '_Loki_,' she called.

Nothing happened.

'Loki Lafeysson!' she called, louder. Maybe it was the wrong name. 'Loki Odinsson!'

Still nothing. 'Liesmith!'

The dusk was still and silent. Morgana narrowed her eyes and sat still, listening. Sure enough, she could hear gentle breathing behind her.

'You're late,' she said accusingly.

He took a few soft steps forwards, standing beside her. 'Now, that's not quite fair. I came  
when you called.'

'And then stood lurking,' she said sharply. She stood up quickly and turned to face him in the half-light.

He was just the same as he had been all the other times that they had met. Tall, dark hair, piercing grey-blue eyes. He wasn't wearing the helmet, she was glad to see. It made him look rather like some form of animal. Actually, it reminded her of some of the costumes that the children of Camelot used to make for festivals and so on. He wore his usual armour, and his usual haughty expression.

'So, you wish for my aid?' Loki asked.

Morgana inclined her head. 'Why else would I have called you here?'

He smirked. 'For the pleasure of my company?'

Morgana might have laughed another time, but she was tired. 'I need your help.'

'I had gathered that much,' he replied drily. 'With?'

'I need to raise an army,' Morgana began. She would have continued, had she not noticed – despite the flickering, lambent glow of the candle – that his face was… different. Shadows in places they ought not to be.

Suspicious, she held up a hand and called up a glowing light. He narrowed his eyes in what might have been bemusement and tried to move his face away, but she placed a hand on his cheek and forced him to stay still.

His face was covered in bruises, some more recent than others, all serious; some had broken the skin. There were cuts and scrapes, too, and his armour was dented and battered.

'You're wounded,' she noted. 'What happened?'

'The Hulk happened,' he said bitterly.

Morgana's brow furrowed in confusion. 'The what?'

'Never mind,' he said smoothly. 'It is a monster, that is all.'

'And it got the better of you?'

His voice was sharp. 'It is a _very _big monster.'

Now that she was looking, she could see that he was standing awkwardly, holding one arm carefully, and that his careful breathing betrayed injured ribs. The shadows under his eyes told her that he was in no better shape than she was.

'Sit down,' she said abruptly.

'I'm perfectly-'

'You have at least two broken ribs, a recently healed fracture of your left arm, more bruises than actual unblemished skin, and at least one injured hip. Sit down.'

He took a seat on the other side of the table and Morgana busied herself with her potions and poultices, trying to ignore the little voice in her head which asked why on earth she was bothering.

With a casual flick of one hand she ignited the fire beneath the iron cauldron and caused the bucket of water to fly from the table and tip itself in. With the other, she pulled down a bundle of herbs and retrieved a small, purple bottle which appeared to have been made by a glassblower with hiccups. After some thought, and a brief consultation of a battered book, she also took down a small metal talisman shaped like a staff with two serpents wrapped around it from a hook.

The water was already boiling. Sometimes, she really loved her powers.

Loki watched with interest as she carefully dripped in three drops of the potion, which turned out to be a violent and unpleasantly familiar shade of green, and caused the water to emit a cloud of similarly coloured smoke, and using a silver knife cut three strands of the herbs, which she added to the brew.

'You seem to have done this before,' he said casually.

Morgana looked up from the cauldron. 'This is not the first time that I have had to treat these kinds of injuries.'

He did not miss her grimace. 'Ah, so you often find yourself pounded into the floor by monsters?'

'Far more often than I care to recall,' she said with a wry smile. Morgana glanced back at the book, then picked up the talisman and cradled it in her hands.

'_Byddwch yn gwella_,' she whispered, and her eyes flashed gold. She lowered it carefully into the cauldron and the water hissed and steamed, giving off light before settling back to a darker shade of green.

Morgana pulled the talisman from the potion and ignored the inscrutable expression of her self-inflicted patient. She busied herself for a moment putting away her supplies, then ladled out some of the potion into a tin cup and held it out to Loki. He regarded it for a moment.

'I haven't poisoned it,' she said with a roll of her eyes. 'What would I profit from that? Drink it.'

Loki took the cup from her, his eyes fixed on hers, and waved one hand over the mouth of the cup, never looking away from her as he whispered something in a foreign tongue. After a moment, he inclined his head, satisfied, and drank it.

'Thank you,' he said quietly when she turned away. The corner of her mouth quirked in a smile, the motion odd and unfamiliar now.

She busied herself for a moment with finding an empty bottle and decanting the remainder of the healing serum into it. There was considerably less than there had been when she had tipped the water in, and she made a note to try to refine the spell a little.

She stoppered the bottle and turned to hand it to him, only to find him mere inches behind her. He was getting better at moving silently. Or perhaps, she thought, he wasn't usually trying.

'I have a request to make of you also,' he said. She reached past him to place the bottle on the table and then folded her arms, making a point of not stepping back. Personal space was clearly not on his agenda, but she wasn't going to let herself be intimidated.

Besides, there was very little room between herself and the table and she wasn't going to embarrass herself bumping into it.

'I'm listening,' she said coolly, looking him in the eyes.

Loki stared down at her – and he was a full half a head taller than her, that was very much unfair – with a carefully cultivated blankness. 'You owe me a favour.'

'I do recall the terms of our deal,' she said waspishly.

'I need a spy,' he said quietly.

'And you think that I will do?'

'You will do perfectly,' he responded. 'Nobody knows you in that world. And I have already found an ideal identity for you to assume.'

'A little presumptuous, given that I have the choice of refusing you three times,' Morgana said challengingly.

He bowed his head. She ignored the fact that it brought him even closer to her and stood her ground.

'True,' he murmured. 'But I hoped that you would not refuse so eminently simple and easy a request.'

'I want to know precisely what you are asking,' Morgana said firmly. 'Who would I spy on?'

'A man named Tony Stark,' Loki said, with a glimmer of hatred colouring his tone. 'And, through him, the Avengers Initiative.'

'The what?'

'I'll explain in more detail if you accept.'

'Why do you want them spied on?'

This time, Loki's face was clearly visible in the firelight and the twisted look that crossed it unmistakable.

'Revenge,' he whispered.

* * *

_Meanwhile, in New York_

The klaxon was shrill and whining. Very annoying, actually. Definitely not helping the headache.

Headache? Something to worry about?

No. Probably not. Probably just a hangover.

No memories at all of getting drunk last night. None of last night, actually.

Yeah, hangover.

Tony let his head drop to the floor again. It was cool and smooth and rocking him gently, except probably that was the headache. Unless he actually had programmed the floor to act as a hammock. That was a really good idea. The kind of thing he would do while drunk.

He could hear voices clamouring at him, which was also annoying. It sounded like Pepper and maybe Bruce.

They were poking him, too, which was annoying. Nearly as annoying as that klaxon.

Alarm. Headache. Concerned voices. Possible concussion.

The shaken puzzle pieces of his mind locked back into position and Tony pushed himself up off the floor, which was still moving, and he was seriously considering that idea of a hammock-floor, that would be cool. Concussed science was the best kind.

'What happened?' he slurred.

'You exploded something,' Pepper said in concern. 'The – uh – generator coils overloaded? Or something?'

'The feedback loop for the generator coils,' Bruce corrected absent-mindedly.

'What went wrong with it?'

'It stopped feeding back.'

Tony just stood there, swaying, and then raised a hand as though about to speak.

'What,' he said, slowly and ponderously, considering and deliberating every syllable, 'happened last night?'

Pepper and Bruce looked at each other. 'Concussion,' they said simultaneously.

Tony looked like he was having trouble with his facial muscles, and then suddenly fell over sideways. Bruce caught him with the ease of practice, propping the billionaire upright. 'We should leave,' he said in concern.

Pepper rolled her eyes and helped him lift Tony, who was muttering something about dolphins and why they should have lasers. 'Is it dangerous here?'

'Only a bit,' Bruce assured her.

'Expand on that, please,' Pepper said in her best you-may-be-a-genius-but-I'm-a-CEO voice.

'Well, if the generator coil feedback loop were to-'

Pepper held up her free hand as they hauled Tony to the top of the emergency stairs. 'Pretend I'm not a PhD in Crazy Science.'

'Right. Um. If the energy currently going through the coils got a surge, then it couldn't shut it off or drain the excess, so the central processer would, um, terminate.'

'Terminate.'

'With extreme prejudice,' Bruce said with a poker-face to rival Natasha's.

'Bruce, just let me know how many billions of pounds of property damage we're talking.'

Bruce chewed his lip as he shouldered open a door. 'How much is the Tower valued at?'

Pepper planted her face in her free hand. 'OK. New question. Can you shut it down?'

'Theoretically,' Bruce said nervously. 'But, uh, at this point the energy field surrounding the unit is so strong that most humans… I mean, it's a lethal dose of radiation.'

Pepper fixed him with a glare. 'I don't think that's a problem for you, somehow.'

Bruce paled. 'Trust me, you don't want the Other Guy getting involved. He can't override relay systems. The buttons are too small, and also it doesn't involve smashing.'

'OK, fine, do we have another option?' The end of the flight of stairs was approaching. Thank heavens. Pepper bit back a groan as they turned the corner and saw the next flight beyond the door. Tony was ridiculously heavy for someone who only ate when reminded.

'Well, we could blow up the Tower,' Bruce quipped. He flinched at Pepper's face, and coughed. 'Um. Tony's suit would probably survive the radiation levels.'

'I don't think he's really in a state to be doing anything,' Pepper said.

'Hey,' Tony slurred. 'I'll have you know that I'm still a genius, and I am perfectly capable of doing anything in the world. Even if it breaks the laws of Physics. Especially then. Like robot dolphins. That's just… an awesome idea. They need suits with lasers. And stuff. Like mine. An Iron Dolphin. It'd be like the team mascot, that would be awesome, isn't that an awesome idea Bruce?'

'Of course it is, Tony,' Bruce said patiently, as they dragged the semi-conscious billionaire down another flight of stairs.

'Can Jarvis not shut down the machine?' Pepper said desperately.

'I don't think so,' Bruce frowned. 'Jarvis?'

The AI's voice echoed from the walls. 'Sir has, unfortunately, managed to block off the main controls from my systems by destroying them in the initial blast.'

'Damn,' Bruce swore softly. 'OK, Jarvis, what are our options?'

The AI considered for a moment. 'I believe that your most viable choices are to run away or get blown up.'

This time it was Pepper who swore, and she didn't stop at damn.

'There is another option,' Jarvis said calmly.

'Well, if you could share, that would be appreciated,' Pepper snapped.

'Someone other than Sir could wear the suit,' Jarvis suggested.

Bruce paused. 'That's actually… a good idea. But won't Tony be kind of… annoyed about that?'

Pepper scowled as she kicked open the next fire door. 'I think he'd be more annoyed about being killed when the Tower blows up.'

There was a short pause.

'So who is capable of shutting that thing down?'

'Er, well, me and Tony,' Bruce said nervously. 'I can give directions over the comms to someone if necessary.'

'Isn't it more efficient for you to wear the suit?'

Bruce started nervously. 'I… really don't think that that's a good idea. I mean, me and small spaces, don't really…'

'You'll be fine,' Pepper said brusquely. 'It's basically like wearing a suit of armour, or diving gear. And Jarvis can do the steering.'

Bruce hesitated. 'There's another problem…'

'Do I even want to know?' Pepper groaned.

'The suit's on the top floor.'

Pepper swore again. 'Jarvis?'

'Yes?' came the calm, disembodied voice.

'Can you get the suit here?'

'I can.'

'Please do so. We need Bruce to shut down the machine.'

'Very well.'

'How's the evacuation going?' Bruce asked Jarvis as they dragged Tony a little further.

'The top twenty floors are empty, the lower floors are almost fully evacuated and the local police have been alerted. There is a hundred meter evacuation zone around the Tower and a SHIELD team are en route.'

'Thanks,' Bruce said quickly. 'Have you got medics on standby?'

'A team are on their way up to you to take Sir to an ambulance,' Jarvis said with that scary efficiency. 'The suit has also been dispatched and should be arriving in approximately ten seconds. I recommend that you stand away from walls.'

Bruce and Pepper exchanged a worried glance and hurried further down the stairs. Around nine seconds later, the exterior wall a few meters behind them, up the stairs, cracked, crumbled and caved in. The Iron Man suit floated in through the gap.

'If Jarvis ever decides to conquer the world, we're so stuffed,' Bruce muttered. Pepper nodded wearily.

'The EMTs should be with you shortly. Doctor Banner, if you move away from Sir the suit can assemble itself around you.'

Bruce dropped Tony's arm nervously, stepping up a few steps. The Iron Man suit unfolded itself suddenly in the disconcertingly fluid way that it had, fluttering around like deadly metal origami.

* * *

_London, Earth_

St James' Park was bustling. It was summer, and it appeared that all of London had elected to picnic on the same spot.

Nobody noticed a shimmering, swirling patch of shade that suddenly wasn't. Instead, a young man and woman were standing in the shade of a spreading oak.

'Where are we?' Morgana asked with barely veiled curiosity and wonder.

'On Midgard, where I asked you to spy,' Loki replied. 'This is a city called London. It's in England.'

Morgana turned in a circle. 'This place is like nothing I've ever seen before. What are those mechanical things that those people ride?'

'They call them bikes, or bicycles,' Loki replied with an edge of disdain. 'It is cheap transport that is a little faster than walking.'

Morgana frowned. 'But they have to exert so much effort to turn the pedals. Why not simply ride a horse?'

Loki shrugged. 'Mortals are odd.'

'Why have you brought me here?' Morgana asked, still drinking in the sights.

'You wished to know what Earth was like,' Loki said. 'I could not take you to New York. I, or you, might be recognised.'

'This is a world beyond anything that I have seen,' Morgana said in wonder. 'What of their magic?'

'They have none,' Loki said dismissively. 'They do not see as we do. They are helpless to our powers. When last I was here, I was able to control and destroy their minds and hearts with impunity.'

'And yet this world posed a threat to you?' Morgana said with a laugh.

Loki's face twisted. 'They have… other means of defence. Underestimate them at your peril.'

Morgana looked around. 'How do you expect me to learn to live here? These… people are so ridiculous. Look at their clothes!'

'You will, of course, have to disguise yourself,' Loki said with equanimity.

Morgana snorted. 'That's easy for you to say. You dress as my people do, you will have to change nothing.'

'It is only a mild inconvenience. If you wish, I can show you how to cloak yourself with magic so that you only appear to be wearing the clothes of this world.'

'That would seem to be the better option,' Morgana agreed.

Loki shrugged and took a step forwards. The air around him seemed to shimmer and his armour and tunic melted away to be replaced by a dark grey suit of the kind that some of the humans in the park wore. He turned to Morgana. 'You see? It is simple.'

Morgana frowned and closed her eyes, muttering something that he couldn't catch. The air around her warped and twisted and in a moment she was wearing a simple white dress that reached to her ankles and was belted in at the waist with a sash.

Loki frowned at her. 'It will have to do. It is, at least, less conspicuous than your usual outfits. Now, let us go. There is much to show you.'

* * *

_Stark Tower_

The Iron Man armour was surprisingly heavy. The other Avengers often joked about Tony's lack of physical strength, since the machine did most of the work, but it took a ridiculous amount of effort to move.

Bruce was distinctly uncomfortable inside the small, metal space. It felt cramped, somehow, which he put down to the fact that despite Tony's larger-than-life personality the billionaire was actually fairly short.

'Jarvis, how do I fly this thing?' he asked nervously. The AI's voice echoed back, loud and clear within the confines of the helmet.

'I will control the suits flight, sir, as you are not used to the controls. Where do you need to go?'

'I need to get to the control room, fast.'

Bruce regretted his choice of words almost immediately. "Fast", in Tony-speak, was what most people would call "suicidal".

The suit hovered upright, rotated itself to horizontal – and _that_ felt weird, his body moving without his control, unpleasantly familiar and worrying – and then shot forwards, out of the hole it had made in the wall a few moments previously. The suit rocketed up the side of the Tower, so quickly that the view blurred and Bruce hoped Jarvis knew where he was going because he sure didn't, and then seconds later he slowed to a halt and his arm rose. A repulsor blast fired, and the recoil on those things was way more than Tony let on, he felt like his hand was going to come off, it was about time that they redesigned that particular function, and then the wall fell apart and the Iron Man suit floated through with Bruce inside it.

Bruce felt his boots hit the floor with a _clang_ and a pang of relief. He took an experimental step forwards and was relieved to find that the suit was under his control once more, although it still felt bulky and slow, like moving through treacle.

'Gamma radiation is measuring lethal levels, Dr Banner,' Jarvis announced.

Bruce scowled. 'Yes, I noticed, thank you. Jarvis, can you reroute the main coupling relays? I need –'

'Yes, sir. May I suggest bypassing the secondary arrays?'

'Right.' Bruce worked busily for the next few minutes, exchanging suggestions with Jarvis.

Eventually, they got the reactor under control and shut it down. Bruce stepped back with a weary sigh. 'Jarvis, give me the alpha radiation levels.'

A moment passed, and then Jarvis replied, 'Within acceptable parameters, Dr Banner. May I suggest, however, that the Tower is left empty for a few weeks?'

Bruce surveyed the readings, hearing the familiar clicks of the Geiger counter, uncomfortably fast. 'Yes. Yes. Make it a month, Jarvis, and make sure any clean-up crews have full hazmat suits. We need an environmental containment plan, and everyone needs testing and decon. The alpha will be absorbed quickly enough, and the waste isotopes are contained in the central chamber, but the gamma-'

'The gamma radiation was predominantly contained by the shielding on the reactor and this chamber,' Jarvis said as Bruce headed for the door. 'Sir, can I suggest flying down to the ground levels? It would be much faster.'

'No thanks,' Bruce said with a shudder as he reached the top of the flight of stairs. 'I think I'd rather take my chances with the radiation.' He gave a humourless smile inside the helmet, watching the HUD flickering as it calculated exposure levels, biosigns, hell, probably Facebook updates too, how did Tony concentrate with all this stuff flying in front of his face?

A little phone icon appeared on the screen with a picture of Pepper next to it, just as Jarvis said, 'Dr Banner, Ms Potts is on the line.

'Put her through,' Bruce said quickly, pushing through another fire-door. He was getting seriously out of breath moving around in the suit. 'Ms Potts?'

'Bruce?' Pepper sounded worried. 'How are you doing?'

'We've shut down the reactor,' Bruce said quickly. 'And all the systems that were relying on it. Tell Tony he's never playing with radiation again. If he wants energy he'll have to put up with the arc reactor.'

'You try telling him,' Pepper said, exasperated but relieved. 'So it's all OK?'

'Well,' Bruce said nervously. 'I mean, the Tower's off limits for about a month but-'

'A month?' Pepper's tone sounded somewhere between "annoyed" and "at least it wasn't worse".

'I'm really very sorry, Ms Potts,' Bruce began. 'I tried to tell Tony that he should just use the arc reactor, but he – well, I've no idea what was going on in his mind-'

'Oh, don't worry about it,' Pepper interposed. 'Believe me, nobody ever does. Listen, out-of-bounds for a month is hardly the worst thing Tony's ever done. Not even close. I'm going to liase with SHIELD and get a decon zone set up, full nuclear hazard drill, yes?'

'Yes. Thank you, Miss Potts,' Bruce said in relief.

'Please, call me Pepper. And - congratulations, you've just dealt with your first Tony Disaster. Well coped, especially given the drama.' He could hear her smiling. 'My first day, he nearly gassed us both. I'm still not sure quite what he was doing, but it didn't react well with day-old coffee being spilt into it.'

'That sounds like him,' Bruce said wearily. 'Jarvis, can I take the suit off yet?'

'Radiation levels are still high-' Jarvis began.

'Is it enough for the Other Guy to put in an appearance?'

Jarvis was silent for a moment. 'I do not believe so.'

'Great. Pepper, I'll be with you in a bit. Jarvis, disassemble the suit.'

Bruce stood still for a moment as the Iron Man suit began to unfold itself. The faceplate shot up and he breathed fresh air with a surge of relief. It was probably tainted with radiation, but all things considered, he wasn't too worried about that.

The suit folded away from his arms and legs and Bruce stumbled forwards, the sudden lack of weight on his limbs causing him to wobble a little until he got his sea legs.

The Iron Man suit floated in front of him. It was more than a little creepy. 'Uh, please send the suit down to decon, Jarvis,' Bruce said quickly. 'It's probably contaminated.'

'At once, Dr Banner,' Jarvis' voice replied, echoing from the walls. Bruce nodded and started down the steps again, breathing as evenly as he could. Hulking out now would be the opposite of helpful.

* * *

**I wanted to end the chapter after Loki's "Revenge" line, but then it would have been too short. Now I think it's too long and doesn't end well. Thoughts?**

**Don't expect updates soon. Except maybe. But almost definitely not. **

**Next chapter: Clean up, guest appearances from the Fantastic Four, and the other Avengers are introduced. (The Merlin arc kicks in a bit later on.)**


End file.
